


A Challenge

by rodabonor



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Dancing, Dirty Dancing AU, Hannibal is seventeen, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Will is in his twenties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-22 22:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12491836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rodabonor/pseuds/rodabonor
Summary: Hannibal is taking dance classes during his stay at a resort. Dance instructor Will decides to give him a challenge.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a Dirty Dancing au. No, it isn't crack. Inspired by [this tumblr post](http://avegetariancannibal.tumblr.com/post/166541069139/terrible-hannibal-au-26)

Hannibal wasn’t necessarily opposed to dancing, but the idea of taking classes was tedious. Mostly because he had already mastered the basics, being familiar with most of the traditional types of dancing. But his aunt had insisted he find something to do during the time they spent at the resort, and when he didn’t sign up to any activities, she wrote his name on the list to a beginner’s dance class.

Not wishing to argue, Hannibal went. He tried to make enough of an effort for his attendance to seem worthwhile, as he didn't want to waste anyone's time or appear rude. But he either wasn’t as subtle in his ennui as he liked to think or the dance instructor simply saw through his artificial enthusiasm, because one day after class, he approached him.

“Hey. Hannibal, right?”

Hannibal turned. “Yes?”

“Something wrong with my class?” The dance instructor – Will – leaned against the doorframe. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows were raised, but amusement softened the edge in his storm-grey eyes. Hannibal decided to be honest.

“I didn’t volunteer to take it. My aunt signed me up. Your guidance is not at fault.”

“Nor is it of use. You already know the steps.”

“It’s a beginner’s class. The steps aren’t very challenging.”

Will smiled, showing a hint of teeth in a lopsided, almost mischievous smirk. “You want a challenge?”

At that point, Hannibal was so bored with the dull routine of his vacation that he would have said yes to almost anything. “What kind of challenge?”

“The kind your aunt wouldn’t sign you up for.”

His decision was instantaneous.

*

When Will swung open the door, it was like stepping into a different world. Music soared through the crowded room and the air was thick with the combined scent of sweat and smoke, clogging Hannibal’s nose and itching at the back of his throat. He stayed close to the wall, dodging the bodies littering the floor – coiled tight and rocking together with leisurely yet urgent movements that Hannibal found rather obscene.

“This doesn’t look much like dancing at all,” Hannibal said, trying to keep the note of genuine bewilderment out of his voice. He hadn’t seen anything like it before.

“You’d be surprised.” Will gestured to the dance floor. “Want to try it?”

“Are you honestly suggesting I dance with a woman like this?”

“Maybe later.” Will’s mouth twisted into that same lopsided grin he afforded him earlier. “Would be irresponsible of me to let you out there without some practice.”

This time, Hannibal had to make an effort to contain his bafflement. “Men normally aren’t supposed to partner up. I don't see how this dance is any different.”

“You said this didn’t look like dancing at all.”

Hannibal gave him a flat look. “Aren’t you concerned about your reputation?”

Will just gripped his waist and yanked him closer, almost making Hannibal trip on his own feet. There was still space between them, but Will’s hands lingered on his waist as he started moving his hips to the rhythm of the song, giving Hannibal an encouraging nod to urge him to mimic him. Hannibal wasn’t easily flustered, but the roll of hips were unfamiliar to his muscle memory and he had to push through mental as well as physical barriers before he could fall into the same rhythm.

“Are you certain this isn’t acting needlessly reckless?” he asked, not looking around to see if anyone was watching. Will shrugged, one-shouldered.

“These are my friends. Most of them. There are other shitty jobs I could take if this doesn’t work out.”

They were closer now, Will’s arm looped around his back, one hand still firm on his waist. Hannibal’s arms had folded around Will’s neck at some point.

“How come you’re the one to lead?” Hannibal asked.

“Because I know what we’re doing.”

“What are we doing? You haven’t given me any instructions.”

“I said it’d be a challenge.” Will tightened his grip on his waist, then he tugged him even closer and ground their hips together in a manner Hannibal would have considered shocking mere minutes ago. “It’s ok, I trust these people. Don’t be afraid.”

Hannibal would have argued the assumption that he was in any way afraid, but the half-smile teasing at the corners of Will’s mouth made him come to an abrupt halt. Those eyes ringed with cloudbursts were closed and he thrust against him with languid ease, making Hannibal think of indecent things. There was something abandoned about Will’s dancing that called such crude images to mind, but that was also what made Hannibal understand what his challenge entailed.

He tipped his head back and tried to match Will’s boldness, finally realizing that his usual economy of movement would serve this style of dancing poorly.

“There you go.” Will smiled and bent him back at the waist, steering him into a sweeping dip that made Hannibal’s breath hitch. “At this rate, you’ll get to lead next time.”


	2. Chapter 2

After that night, Hannibal saw Will even on the days where he had no classes. Usually they would walk together or sit by the docks, and occasionally Hannibal would watch Will practice his routines with his dance partner Alana, pen in hand and sketchpad on his lap.

“I can’t believe you actually drew these,” Will said while flipping through some of his sketches. “They’re amazing. Reminds me of that artist with the ballerinas.”

Hannibal paused. “Degas?”

“If you say so.”

He smiled. “Degas’ dancers were often in the midst of the mundane. My portrayals are far more indulgent,” He pointed to a sketch of Will lifting Alana in the air. “A true artist wouldn’t be afraid to pick apart the poetry of it. I’m not quite so bold.”

“I don’t think you suffer any lack of boldness.” Will smiled and gathered his things. “Want to go for a swim?”

Hannibal usually felt alienated in other people’s presence, but there was a glimmer of potential in the depth of Will’s perceptive gaze, something drawing him in. Whatever Will asked and wherever he wanted to go, Hannibal followed with disturbing lack of second thought. He put his sketchpad and pen away and nodded, letting Will drag him along to the lake.

“Aren’t you going to get in the water?” Will called from over his shoulder as he struggled out of his clothes. Hannibal lowered his gaze out of courtesy and shook his head, finding himself a shaded spot overlooking the lake.

“I thought I might try my hand at the mundane,” he said, taking his sketchpad back out. Will shrugged and waded out into the water. Even from afar, Hannibal could make out the soft moan slipping past Will’s lips as he submerged himself completely, a trembling sound of relief that forced him to take a deep breath before his pen touched a fresh sheet of paper.

Art was all perception, Hannibal knew, and he didn’t know whether the emotion Will stirred in him changed his perception of the final result or if the final result held a sliver of the strange new beauty his eyes had been opened to. Either way, he found he was unusually attached to the sketches of Will, whether he was wiping water from his face with hair plastered in inky tendrils over his head or sprawled inelegantly on the dock, double-chinned with a hat covering half his face to avoid the scorching sun.

“That is somehow both flattering and horrifying,” Will said once he saw the new sketches, pointing an accusing finger. “I told you a lack of boldness wasn’t your problem.”

“I merely drew what I saw.”

“Then I’m a terrible subject.” Hannibal thought Will’s flushed face couldn’t be entirely blamed on the sun. “You should stick to drawing Alana.”

The offhand statement gave Hannibal pause. “You two seem close,” he said, lacking the courage to ask what he really wanted to ask. “Have you known each other long?”

“Years,” Will said. “She’s a great friend.”

Once again, Will was either observant enough to see through him or Hannibal was simply not as skilled at deception as he liked to think, because he was given a small smile that could only be described as reassuring.

“We’re just friends, really. That’s all there is to it.”

Hannibal nodded and turned his gaze back to his sketchpad. There he found another Will, waist-deep in water, flashing his wolfish grin with a hand outstretched – waving or beckoning.

*

Seeing Will every day eventually became such a regular occurrence that Hannibal found he was concerned when someone else filled in for him during class. He tried not to let it bother him - Will was under no obligation to tell him every little thing, after all. But when he still hadn’t seen him around when afternoon turned into evening, Hannibal couldn’t help but look for him.

He eventually found him in his studio, immersed in a whispered discussion with Alana and another man he assumed to be a co-worker. From behind the half-open door, Hannibal could see how Will pulled out a few crinkled bills from his pocket, saying something he couldn’t quite make out while handing Alana the money.

Gripped by curiosity and hoping he wasn’t intruding too much, Hannibal opened the door. Will’s gaze snapped toward him immediately.

“Hannibal.” His eyes were soft mist and rainclouds, all gentle concern and no malice. “This isn’t really a good time.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Alana said with a certain edge to her voice, shoving the money back into Will's hands. “I can’t take your money, Will. This is all you’ve got.”

“And it’s all I’ll have if you don’t get that appointment.” Will pursed his lips. “You’re not the only one depending on it, you know.”

“It doesn’t even matter whether I have enough money or not. We still can’t make it happen before Thursday. That was the only appointment available.”

The man Hannibal didn’t know nudged him in the side. “Alana’s got herself into some trouble,” He said in a hushed tone of voice.

“What kind of trouble?”

The man pointed to his stomach and the talk of an appointment suddenly made sense to Hannibal. His insides were instantly tied into knots as he pondered who might be responsible aside from Alana, but he trusted what Will had told him.

“Why can’t it wait until Thursday?” he asked the stranger.

“They have a weekly thing at another resort. If they don’t perform, they’re not getting paid for the season.”

Hannibal deliberated quickly. Then he turned to Alana.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I apologize if I’m being untoward, but I might be able to help. I have connections in medical school. While I only have theoretical knowledge myself, I might be able to get someone more experienced out here before Thursday. Discreetly, of course.”

Everyone stared in baffled silence.

“Really?” Will asked, as if Hannibal would make such an offer groundlessly.

“Really,” Hannibal affirmed. Then he turned to Alana again. “Assuming that is truly what you want, of course.”

Alana gave him a look of tentative hope, sincere enough that her yes almost seemed excessive. Hannibal contacted one of the professors at Johns Hopkins that he had reason to believe performed such procedures from time to time. The fact that he knew about the illegal proceedings was enough for Dr. Sutcliffe to oblige, and Hannibal felt surprisingly indifferent about the polite extortion he found himself engaging in. In the end, the issue was more easily resolved than he would have thought.

*

While emotions were sometimes difficult for Hannibal to properly categorize, jealousy was by far the easiest one to place. He experienced that firm tug of possessiveness more often than not those few times he had managed to form a close connection to somebody. Despite Will’s reassurance, he felt it every time he saw him and Alana together. He felt even more strongly when he saw the tender, relieved expression on Will’s face as he told him the abortion had gone well. 

But once they were alone with each other again, sitting on the damp wood of their favored dock while watching the sun lower past the line of the lake, the shards and splinters and sharp edges inside dulled into blunt points.

“So,” Will smiled and nudged him in the ribs with his elbow, "medical school, huh? Honestly thought you were a little young for that.”

“I am a little young for it. I’m seventeen.”

Will stared, mouth half-open. “Seriously? How long have you been in med school?”

“I’m not attending. I was offered to and I have been in contact with the professors, but I’ve chosen to wait.” Hannibal turned to look at him. “I’m afraid my age might present me with social challenges I’m not quite willing to face.”

Will nodded, slowly. “I get that.” He smiled again. “You must be really, really smart.”

“Yes.” Will’s laugh was loud and genuine, reminding Hannibal of trickling water and strings being plucked. “What about you?”

“Oh, I haven’t got that kind of money.” Will’s face gained a shy expression as he averted his gaze. “I’m self-taught with dancing. I’ve always wanted to be in law enforcement though.”

“Why?”

“I think I could be useful there,” He looked out over the lake. The smile hadn’t quite faded from his lips, but his eyes were serious, weighed down by the bleak fog and rain Hannibal easily recognized by now. “You know, there are people that get away with the most awful things. Cops say things like, there’s nothing they can do, there are no leads, and so on. I don’t believe that. There’s always something, if you just look. If you’re willing to see.”

“What is it they won’t see that you will?”

“Everything.” Will’s eyes turned flinty. “I can’t explain it very well. I’ve never been able to. But my mind goes these dark places, and they’re places I can understand. I want to use that understanding for something.” He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I sound like a crazy person. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t.” Hannibal’s mind was running in a hundred different directions, trying to make sense of what he had just heard. “I think you sound like a brave person.”

“We may have different definitions of brave.” 

Hannibal was about to protest, but then Will scooted closer and wrapped an arm around his back, and there was a sudden tightness in his chest – as if his insides were expanding. He closed his eyes and risked resting his head against Will’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure how much time passed like that, but eventually, he heard himself break the silence.

“My family was killed.” His confession was much more quiet than he intended for it to be. “The ones responsible haven’t been brought to justice. I have many dark places.”

Will pulled him even closer, wrapping both his arms around him, and the pressure under Hannibal’s ribs bordered on painful. He could feel warm, damp breath in his hair as Will’s cheek pressed against the top of his head and then he felt his own arms twine around Will’s waist until they were tangled up like vines or snakes or the thoughts racing through Hannibal’s head.

“I would follow you there,” Will said, voice silky-rough like crushed velvet. “I would occupy them with you, if you needed me to.”

Hannibal felt as though Will reached through the bars of his ribs and squeezed his heart in his hand. It felt reckless and unsafe. Irreversible, in the sense that there was an empty hollow left behind once he was on his own again. Alone in his bed, he wished he had seen the look on Will’s face when he held him so he might replicate it in a drawing. But his eyes had been closed the entire time, and even attempting to imagine it was an impossible feat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo chapter 2 got a little long and I had to split it up, which is why this is now a 3 chapter fic. God forbid I write something short.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was hidden behind layers of dense clouds and the air seemed as though it was thickening, ripe with oncoming storm. Hannibal pulled his jacket tighter around himself as he sat on the porch, waiting for Will to pick him up. They were going for a walk around the forest area, as good as empty now that the threat of rain chased people indoors.

Before Will arrived, Hannibal felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. He turned around and looked up to find his aunt’s face, set in its usual solemn mask.

“It has been some time since you joined us for tea,” she said, not unkindly, handing him a cup. Tendrils of steam rose from it along with the almost vegetal scent of her tea.

“Yes,” Hannibal said, realizing it was true. “Thank you. I will make sure to sit with you and Robert tomorrow.”

She inclined her head. “They say there’s a storm coming. Wouldn’t you prefer to come inside?”

“I am waiting for someone.”

She paused. “I see.”

Hannibal searched her eyes. They were filled with mute, pressing intent. “Is there something you wish to ask?”

She was quiet for a moment before she sat down next to him on the porch, close enough that their elbows brushed and he heard the sound of her breathing. It was shallow and somewhat irregular, a calculated effort rather than something natural. He tried not to take offense, but found it exceedingly difficult.

“You have made friends here,” she observed. “One friend in particular.”

“That surprises you.”

“What you are willing to do for them surprises me,” Her eyes turned toward the horizon. “I know that you didn’t call Dr. Sutcliffe here because of an illness as such. I admire the goodness of your actions, but I find myself pondering your intentions.”

Hannibal frowned as her insinuations sunk in. “All human interaction is manipulation. Whatever my intentions may be, they do not diminish the good in my actions.”

“I merely wonder what others results these intentions might yield.” She was almost statue-esque in her stillness, only animated by the gentle sweep of the wind through her hair. “I dare not venture a guess as to what you are hoping to achieve with that boy, but for the sake of everyone involved, I urge you to proceed with caution.”

Hannibal didn’t answer, only held the cup of scalding tea in his hands until it cooled, warmed only by the feedback of heat in his hands. Staring into the opaque surface, he could see the quivering reflection of his own face. He thought the contortion seemed fitting, suiting his current sense of upheaval. He hadn’t thought he could resent his aunt until then.

*

The unease of being reprimanded didn’t quite go away, even as he was walking besides Will. Hannibal could tell that Will had sensed the tension even from afar when he finally arrived to pick him up – something about the soft graphite of his eyes turning steely, the way he waited until they were well out of sight before he slipped his hand into Hannibal’s.

“Shouldn’t you be heading home?” Hannibal asked as dusk settled. They had just arrived to their usual spot by the docks and Will was toeing off his shoes, rolling his pants up over his legs to dip his feet in the water.

“Why should I?” Will shouldered him lightly as he sat down beside him. “Want to get rid of me?

“I thought you might need the rest. Thursday is tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Will shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal. I know the routine well. We both do. It’s just another part of the job.”

The idea of Will thinking of his performance with Alana as something as impersonal as a job was minutely comforting. Hannibal considered asking if he could come see them dance, but he wasn’t sure he actually wanted to. He disliked having to share Will, which he inevitably had to when they weren’t alone with each other.

“Alana is lucky to have such a talented partner,” he said instead. “I enjoyed dancing with you very much.”

“Yeah?” Will’s mouth parted on a grin. The asymmetry to his face was appealing in a way Hannibal couldn’t explain. “I can show you some of the steps now, if you want. It’s not that complicated. You might even be able to lead this time around.”

Hannibal stood and offered his hand to help Will up. He expected him to put his shoes back on, but he remained barefoot, black slacks scrunched up over his glistening wet legs.

“The first part’s kind of cheesy, so I think we’ll skip ahead,” Will said, putting Hannibal’s hand on his back and resting his own hand on his bicep, braiding their free fingers together. “It’s supposed to be a kind of lover’s embrace where we’re looking into each other’s eyes, but I have trouble with eye-contact, so I’d just gaze lovingly into your forehead anyway.”

Hannibal smiled a little, noticing the way Will’s gaze was fastened above his eyebrows. “What is the next part then?”

“It starts out with a mambo, then there’s a few salsa steps.” Will shrugged. “I know you know them. Just improvise, we should be good.”

Hannibal nodded and stepped forward, easing them into the rhythm of a mambo. Although he was leading, Will had a subtle way of indicating what he wanted them to do, and it felt like being in sync, a conscious anticipation of movement that somehow still seemed natural. When their mambo faded into a salsa, the transition was almost completely smooth.

“Good,” Will said. “Just remember that dancing is supposed to be fun. Don’t be afraid to take risks or break a few rules.”

“I’m honestly not sure how I would do that.”

“Well, we’re alone on a moldy dock in the middle of the night and I’m not even wearing any shoes,” Will said. “Take it from there.”

Hannibal twirled him out and yanked him back, pulling him close to rock against him with their hips as their only point of contact, letting it continue past any pretense of artistry. Will laughed and nodded empathically at the same time. “That’s the stuff,” he said, spinning Hannibal before letting himself be spun in return.

“Is there a next part?” Hannibal asked. Will's mouth twisted into a half-smile, half-grimace.

“That’ll either land us in the water or the hospital,” he said. “It’s that lift you’ve seen me and Alana practicing.”

“I think we could manage a supported lift though. Don’t you?” Hannibal turned him around and placed his hands on his waist, smiling as he heard the surprised yelp that escaped Will’s mouth. He waited until warm, slightly smaller hands covered his own, then he tightened his grip. “Ready?”

“No,” Will squeaked, but Hannibal could feel the way his muscles tensed in preparation. Though he was laughing all the way through it, there was an effortless grace to Will’s form as Hannibal bent his knees and lifted him, that near-instinctive awareness of body and movement that came with being an experienced dancer.

“Christ.” Will gave a breathless little laugh once he was back in Hannibal’s arms. “I thought that was going to be much scarier. You do that a lot?”

“Propel grown men into the air? No.” Hannibal smiled back. “Someone told me to take risks though.”

Will draped his arms around his neck and leaned against his frame with a small huff, resting his cheek against Hannibal’s shoulder. The gentle sway from side to side was the only thing indicating that their embrace was a dance at all. As Hannibal’s arms wrapped around his waist, Will started humming a song he was wholly unfamiliar with. The words were difficult to make out, but the melody was pleasant enough, especially in the soft drone of Will’s voice.

“Is this part of the routine?” Hannibal teased. He felt something completely new with Will tucked against his chest, but he was young and assumed feeling new things was to be expected. Will smiled against his shoulder.

“Not exactly, no.”

When he started mumbling through the song again, Hannibal could make out some of the words. _I’ve had the time of my life, and I owe it all to you._ Hannibal had never kissed anyone before, but with the warmth of Will’s body seeping in through his clothes to the sound of his somewhat atonal singing voice, he found that he wanted to.

As if he were thinking the same thing, Will pulled back and looked at him. His eyes were large and eclipsed, glossy like the glimmering surface of the lake. He only met Hannibal’s gaze for a brief moment before he turned away again, a rueful smile on his lips.

“You do know that there are social challenges to where this is going as well, right?”

"Yes." Hannibal put a hand on Will’s neck. The skin there was warm and soft beneath his fingers. “I thought you weren’t concerned about your reputation.”

“It’s yours I’m worried about, honestly.”

“Don’t be.” Hannibal wanted to tell Will that dancing with him was the only fun he ever had dancing at all. That there was an unfolding sensation in his chest when they touched. But words eluded him. He leaned closer, unable to tear his eyes away from the berry red of Will’s mouth. Still he hesitated, inexperience making him uncertain. He wasn’t sure who initiated the kiss in the end, but the dry press of lips soon deepened into a wet brush of tongues, uncoordinated and slightly off center. Even though it was likely lacking in technical skill, it had warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach and left him feeling vaguely dazed once their lips parted from each other.

Will sighed and dropped his head back on his shoulder, squeezing his arms tight around his neck.

“You should probably be a little worried. I saw the way your aunt looked at me before.”

“It’s not what you think,” Hannibal said. “She is worried about you. Not me.”

Will pulled back, frowning. “Me? Why?”

Hannibal fell silent and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He imagined he could still taste Will there.

“I told you I have many dark places. You and my aunt have the gift of astute perception in common, but hers isn’t clouded by attraction.”

Will’s frown deepened. “Are you trying to scare me off or something?”

“I’m merely telling you the truth.”

“Hannibal.” Will took his face between his hands and held his gaze with rare determination, as though he hadn’t spent most of their time together evading eye-contact. “Have you ever hurt someone?”

“Not yet,” The wording was deliberate. He had set out to be honest. “I wouldn’t hurt you. All the same, I am uncertain how much further my compassion extends.”

Will sighed and let him go. “Well, I’d think it was pretty weird if you didn’t want to hurt whoever killed your family at least,” he said. “But you’re seventeen. You aren’t set in your ways. I’d say you don’t even have any ways to be set in just yet.”

“You can’t presume to know who I am based on such capricious assumptions.”

“I guess not.” Will sat and pulled Hannibal down with him so he was sitting between his legs, back against his chest. “Tell me about your dark places.”

Hannibal said nothing. He felt the thump of Will’s heart between his shoulder blades, a slow and steady beat to match his even breathing.

“Please?” Will’s stubble scratched against his ear. “I’m already there. Just help me find my way around.”

It was like pulling a tooth, digging through skin and flesh and ligament to wiggle the words free from someplace young and terrified. When they came, they came with surprising ease, but he still couldn’t bear to share his deceased little sister’s name, because spirits are weakened if their names are known and the old beliefs of his home country was the only way he could think to protect her now.

It felt, in essence, like a violation. It felt necessary, and he didn’t have to tell Will that he couldn’t part from him after sharing such a thing, because he took Hannibal’s hand and brought him into his home, into his bed. When the storm finally burst from its restraints, splintering the sky with bolts of lightning and filling the silence with distant thunder, Will’s arms folded around him like a promise.

*

They woke up to a downpour so heavy it seemed to swallow every other sound. There was a brief second just as Hannibal was on the edge of wakefulness where he couldn’t tell himself apart from Will. Then he shifted awake and the arm around his waist came into focus along with the tangle of their legs under the sheets and the warmth of Will’s chest against his back.

He turned and brushed the hair from Will’s forehead, studying his face more closely than he usually permitted himself when Will was awake. Unlike most people, his face wasn’t softened by sleep, but drawn tight in a frown. His eyes were ringed with dark circles that Hannibal hadn’t noticed before. It reminded him that Will might have dark places too that he had yet to explore.

He kept running his hand through the dark strands of soft hair and thought he could see the frown loosen from Will’s face, but it might have been wishful thinking.

“That’s nice,” Will mumbled, eyes still closed. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” Hannibal let his fingers trail down his nape. “When do you have to leave today?”

“Later.” Will’s eyes opened slowly. “Not yet, baby, don’t worry.”

Hannibal felt his brow crease. Will caught it and grinned. “What, you don’t like that?”

“It seems juvenile.”

“It’s a term of endearment.”

“For a child.”

“It’s not.”

“English may not be my first language, but I’m rather certain it’s not meant for an adult.”

“Trust a native speaker, it is.” Will got up on his elbows, then groaned softly as he dragged himself out of bed. He was wearing nothing but pyjama bottoms and Hannibal could see the skin on his arms prickle as he crossed the room. He pulled out a black disc from a small collection and placed it on his record player, then there was the unmistakable sound of a needle scratching across vinyl.

“What is that?”

“Just listen, I’m trying to make a point.”

The high-pitched squeal of a guitar filled the room, blues riffs mingling with the sound of a man and a woman singing together. Hannibal could tell immediately that Will liked the song, his mouth forming soundlessly around the words as fell back on the bed, eyes closed.

“Here, listen,” Will said once a guitar riff faded into spoken dialogue.

_“Sylvia!"_

_“Yes, Mickey?"_

_“How do you call your lover boy?”_

_“Come here, lover boy!”_

_“And if he doesn't answer?”_

_“Oh, lover boy!”_

_“And if he still doesn't answer?”_

_“I simply say—“_

“Baby,” Will sang along, smirking triumphantly. “Oh, baby—“

“You've made your point,” Hannibal conceded, trying not to smile as Will got on his knees and crawled up between his legs, still singing along with a sly smile on his face. “I heard you the first time.”

“My sweet baby,” Will kept humming, peppering his face with kisses. “You’re the one—“

Hannibal swatted at him, helpless to stop a smile from spreading on his face. “Very well, then. I don’t mind. Call me what you like.”

“Noted, lover boy.” Will dodged a pillow before it impacted with his head, his laugh so loud and bright that it seemed contagious. He placed a last kiss on the tip of Hannibal’s nose, his slight smirk turning sweet and sincere.

“I was thinking,” he said. “Would you mind if I talked to your aunt and uncle?”

Hannibal furrowed his brow. “What do you want to discuss with them?”

“You, of course. If they’re at all concerned on my behalf, I’d like to put their minds at ease. They’re going to be seeing more of me in the future, so.”

Hannibal’s brow remained furrowed and the corners of his mouth turned down. The suggestion was an unpleasant reminder of things to come.

“We go back to Baltimore soon, Will. I can’t stay here.”

“I know. But you’ll visit, right? I’ll visit you too, if you’ll have me.”

Hannibal wanted to ask about practical concerns, like money and travel arrangements and whether Will knew what he was doing, but he didn’t quite trust his voice. Will nuzzled his nose into his collarbone, visible under the t-shirt Hannibal borrowed from him the night before.

“They are expecting me for tea today,” Hannibal said. “You should join us after your show.”

“Great,” Will smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was never really a huge fan of Dirty Dancing, but I honestly got so attached to this weird little au. It may be because this is the happiest Will I've ever written and because I got to swoop in and help Hannibal heal while he was still young. Imagining what Hannibal's version of an awkward teen crushing on an older boy would look like was also an A+ writing experience. Very much enjoyed it while it lasted.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this on my [tumblr](http://beatricenius.tumblr.com/post/166687474438/a-challenge), but I've written more since then so I figured I might as well post it here too.


End file.
